


Plucked From Death

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: Micah Giiett had accepted the necessity of his death, and went to it willingly. The Force, accepting his dedication to others, brings him to when he is needed rather than allow that death.





	Plucked From Death

_33 BBY/967 ARR, Yinchorr_

~No, Plo, do not argue with me, my own heart,~ Micah said firmly in their minds, his fingers curling briefly around the talons taking his second lightsaber. ~The wounds I have are mortal. Let me save you, and our dear friends.~ Even as he argued, he was pulling back from their bond, trying to mitigate the damage that would happen.

~I could—~

~You must,~ Micah intruded swiftly, ~survive, to see my Bultar to her trials, to see young Kenobi and our dear Qui off this planet.~ 

The defiance in Plo Koon was strong, but those words struck at his sense of family, and made duty stronger. He ushered the others on, fiercely shutting up Qui-Gon's protests with a short snap of words.

"Do not waste his efforts!"

As the other Jedi retreated, Micah made his way back to the tank, his quick mind working out the appropriate angles, power ratios, and he kept his bracer forward, primary lightsaber in the other hand.

He would not survive, knew it, and yet, his duty now was to save the others, so they might be part of a better future. The cortosis vambrace turned aside a blaster shot as he took up his chosen last stand, delivering one last lesson on sacrifice.

Safely away from the explosion when it came, Qui-Gon Jinn and Plo Koon both felt the searing tear of loss as their childhood friend paid for their survival with his life.

`~`~`~`~`

_21 BBY/979 ARR, Mygeeto_

There was a sensation of colors mixed into sound, both filling his mouth with foul tastes, and then Micah Giiett was able to discern that the explosion had cleared, that he breathed and was… whole? Becoming one with the Force was supposed to relieve one of consciousness, he was certain…

…and then distant sounds of battle intruded. He forced his eyes to work, to move past the sensory impressions that were still jangled in his mind. He drew his lightsaber up, amazed that it, like his body, was whole, and readied to defend himself.

Then his eye fell on the orange skin with unique patterns Micah knew as well as his own face in a mirror, the other man down on a knee, another humanoid clad in full armor crouching to help him while warily appraising Micah. The sense of that one, and the three others close to them, was of open hostility mixed with fierce protectiveness.

The armor was white, but marked in grey, various patterns calling a fierce predator to mind. The marks were common to all of the armored beings, and present on the gauntlets of the other Jedi.

"This is not, at all, what I expected to find inside the Force, my dear friend."

Plo Koon had spent the last several minutes attempting to stop seeing sounds and hearing colors, as the Force did.... something... that left his body and mind alike reeling. Wolffe was beside him, that he knew, his presence as known as his own -- but... there was another presence? Presence where nothing had been, not even the droids they had been hunting, and then... then there was a voice that was absolutely impossible in his ears. He shook his head, low whine in his throat, and tried to make sense of the utter impossibility... trying to make his eyes register the proper reality again instead of technicolor swirls of the Force. 

Tried, tried again, and... the sight in front of him was impossible. His head ached, but he sank into the Force anyway to reach for the impossible voice and mind -- not through the old bond, it was too seared to attempt, but with his gifts. 

"General, sir, potential hostile or ally?" the white-clad being asked in what seemed to be a masculine voice, oddly accented to Micah's ears, but it was the fact that Plo was being addressed as a General that most bothered the Jedi Sentinel. Yet… there was Plo's mind, touching his, not quite right, but more distinctly carried by Plo's telepathy.

"Ally, if you are running with this warm breeze," Micah said, using a typical Dorin turn of phrase for a good friend. ~I am at a loss, Plo, for how I am here and uninjured, but it is I.~

That... really did feel like Micah. Somehow. Plo blinked behind his goggles, hearing Micah -- **Micah** \-- in his mind, in his ears, Everything felt right, felt correct, and it felt... true, as well. He took a deep breath, Micah -- _Micah_ \-- there. He reached for Wolffe gently, hand resting on him. 

"Ally," Plo answered slowly, "I believe." ~I... dear one?~ 

Wolffe growled, just a little, because that qualifier did nothing to settle his nerves, but he signed for the others of Plo's personal squad to move on and get intel on how the tide of battle was going. They'd only been this far behind the worst of it because they had overwhelmed the first rush of clankers and tinnies.

~Yes, Plo. My heart's own companion, I swear I am real.~ Micah powered down the yellow lightsaber, making his senses stretch further, aware there were still blasters on the edge of his hearing, carrying distinctly different sounds. He could not, to his dismay, make out what the weapons in use were, but that would come in time. He saw certain signs of time passing in the way Plo's marks had shifted, and neither goggles nor mask matched Micah's memory, indicating those had changed.

Plo shook his head, clearing away the rest of the Force-induced cobwebs, and pushed up to his feet. ~ _Micah_ ,~ he murmured, joyous and relieved even more than he was utterly baffled, and he patted Wolffe's arm once, reassuring him with the touch, before he left his first son's side and strode towards his Micah, needing to touch him, to feel him with his skin again, to hold the weight of him. 

~I am so confused, but... yes, you are you...~ 

Micah was not accustomed to displays of their bond in the presence of others, but… he had expected to die. Plo had to have felt him die, given the reaction that he was getting. He put the hilt on its clip at his belt, and then moved, his shorter and rounder frame tucking into the taller one of the Kel Dor with long-familiar ease, despite the new bits of armor tucked into the robes.

"I hear trouble nearby, but I cannot do more than be grateful that if I must be confused, it is you to help guide me," he told Plo as they embraced, Micah's face turning into the shoulder and just breathing in the residue of Dorin gas and other smells that were distinctly Plo Koon.

Wolffe was grateful for the helmet he wore, as he watched his general all but pull a Tano attack hug out and be met so willingly with its match on this stranger who carried a lightsaber. It at least hid the drop of his jaw.

Plo held him hard, tight in against his chest, careful with his talons but holding on as tightly as he could manage, trying to convince his mind that any of this was truly real. He could not smell Micah, not through the mask, but he could sense the bio-energy of his body, his pulse and the workings of him, and they were right. The tone of his voice was right, too, for the situation, for the few facts they were currently aware of. 

~My Micah,~ Plo murmured, before he answered aloud, "There _is_ trouble, yes, and without doubt my sons are in need of my aid... but I -- I need to hold you another moment or two. Then... then we will go. The mystery, we will sort later." 

"Sons, is it, my friend?" Micah asked, but he held on just as hard, giving Plo the contact that was so evidently needed. "Did you not already make me a father many times over, with all your foundlings and the clan on Dorin?" he teased lightly. "Though I know that any you have chosen as our family are worthy beings to meet."

Wolffe found himself at a complete loss over what to say or do. So he fell back on military protocols, and turned away to give them privacy, while activating comms to get reports from the captains and lieutenants under his command.

"Sons," Plo rumbled very firmly, though he managed to chuckle for a moment at the easy, quiet teasing. That was so familiar, so much easier to deal with than the years of looking for someone that was never going to be there again. He held on another moment, then sighed deeply, hearing the pitch of a droid tank's cannon. "And... that is the end of our respite. Droids and anything not in similar armor to my Wolffe's are our opponents, my Micah." 

"Better droids than lizard-men who towered over me more than you do!" Micah greeted that last, before he let go and turned to take his lead from the other men, following them into battle. With but one lightsaber he used his gauntlet both to deflect and to bash the smaller droids' heads from their bodies, finding the neck attachment a flimsy thing at best. 

He should have been exhausted; for him the fight on Yinchorr was minutes in the past. But then, he'd been injured severely enough to know it was mortal, and he had purposefully plunged his lightsaber into a tank's fuel cells with enough power to rupture it for an explosion large enough to take out a full attacking force.

Apparently, the Cosmic Force had taken exception to his plan in a very unusual manner.

He did not fail to note that the armored troops were moving to provide him some protection and aid, called into place, he suspected, by the one called Wolffe. He had not failed to hear the firm words in a language that Micah did not know, yet, to Wolffe, and suspected Plo had made it clear he was to be guarded.

`~`~`~`~`

The aftermath of the battle saw Plo and Micah both in the aid station, with the Sentinel applying himself as much as the Consular to the needs of the injured and dying. Whatever horror Micah had fallen into was driven home sharply in one brief exchange between a soldier, his armor half-crushed and blood everywhere, and Plo.

"It's okay, General Buir. It's okay," the trooper was saying. "Help my vod'e. I'm not afraid."

Plo Koon shook his head, looking down at his young son with his heart aching. "It is not all right, _ad_ ," he told him softly, his talons gently brushing over Jock's cheek gently. It was not, in any form. Unavoidable, in this conflict, but his son's resignation and acceptance of the death made it worse than some others. He slipped in despite Jock's words, though, deadening the pain, "Not at all. 

"But it is as you say. Go to rest, son. I have your name." 

With Plo's aid and maybe because death was closing in enough to keep him from the pain, the young man was able to smile at Plo, making Micah's heart squeeze tightly in his chest. The man then closed his eyes, and not a moment past, his breathing fell off into silence.

There were so many questions, but right now, Micah merely asked the one that seemed to be most important. "What is his name, so I may remember with you?"

"Jock," Plo answered softly, before moving to the next of his sons that he _could_ help. 

`~`~`~`~`

Somehow, they made it through the casualties and the dying. Intelligence sweeps said they had routed or destroyed the full force that was located in the sector, and a request for backup elsewhere in a nearby system had come in. As the only High General currently out of combat and possessing most of his legion, Plo Koon had consented for them to begin withdrawing to the _Victorium_ and left that procedure in the hands of his command staff.

He had kept Micah close through it all, letting his friend (his bondmate, his youngling clanmate, so many connections that had severed with Micah's supposed death) absorb information by observing at his side. Now, with the evacuation order given, and most of the injured already loaded on the dropships, he took Micah over to one of the ARC-170s, joined rapidly by Comet, as Wolffe could not evac until the last of the troops had, by Plo's protocols.

One of them would always be on the last ship up.

~Honor guard?~ Micah asked, even as he nodded politely to the trooper.

~One of my close sons,~ Plo corrected, then chuckled mentally. ~And yes. My first son, Wolffe, prefers that one of his cadre of brothers is always at hand. They adopted Comet shortly after we acquired the _Victorium_.~

~I look forward to learning more about the men, even as I dread learning the causes of we Jedi leading armies.~

~As well you should, my dearest one,~ Plo replied, soft but intent. Telling Micah... oh, telling Micah was going to ache. Was going to rip the barely-scabbed wounds of betrayal and deaths open again, and that he could scarce afford. ~As well you should.~ 

"What do you think of her?" he asked aloud, waving a casual hand towards the ARC-170. "And Comet, meet Jedi Master Micah Giiett." 

Comet straightened a little more and gave a crisp salute, "Sir!" 

"Please, not yet with the militancy," Micah said. "I am pleased to meet you, Comet." He smiled a little, then took in the ship. The markings on the nose caught his eye most of all, and he began to grin before looking back at Plo. "It's a good likeness. And the ship is intriguing. I take it you like her?"

Micah was a decent pilot, but not drawn to it the way Plo was. He was, however, more able and willing for it than Qui-Gon, and more likely to travel alone than Tahl ever had been. Only Ky had really had a similar passion for ships as Plo, among their small group of agemates.

Comet stood down, nodding once, briskly, to the new general that'd arrived from somewhere strange enough to set Wolffe to growling, and waited for his general's cue to board.

Plo chuckled, eying the art for a moment, himself. It was not a bad likeness, but then, from one of his sons, it would not be. "I do. They are _good_ ships. Very fast, quite maneuverable. If we had Jedi enough, it would be interesting to see what a trio in battle meditation could do with one. But that is a thought for later. Let us be aboard and up to the _Victorium_." 

Micah and Plo entered, Plo waving Micah to take the co-pilot seat, leaving Comet to the gunner; it would not take much to show Micah what little he required of a co-pilot in the ship, and he… he needed Micah to stay closer than the gunner position.

"Controls don't look terribly different than most ships," Micah said, as he looked over where everything was. "Granted, I was not accustomed to using our fighters as it was." If he was flying out on his own, it was generally in a small scout type vessel, to get in and out with little notice.

"Not too dissimilar," Plo agreed, "and... no, not often." 

It was not a long trip up to the _Victorium_ , but Plo took it leisurely even for that, and flew the length of the ship from a comfortable observing distance, so that Micah could see what had become so firmly 'home' to him. 

Comet took the time to inspect some of the repair work from their last space battle, making certain it was holding up so he could report to the Commander. He was uncertain, like Wolffe and Sinker and Boost, about what this new person meant, so focusing on something useful soothed his mind.

Micah took it all in, noting how heavily armed and armored it was, and dreaded learning the truth of the situation just a bit more for that observation. When Plo did finally take them into a landing bay, where Micah saw hyperdrive rings and single-being fighters, the human Jedi was certain he was going to have a difficult time turning his emotions fully to the Force.

"Comet, please see that the stateroom near mine is cleared and readied for Micah's use," Plo told his aide-de-camp, inclining his head to reinforce that order when Comet started to protest about the Commander's orders.

"Yes sir." If he got it done quickly enough, he could be back on duty in front of the General's quarters before Wolffe reached the ship.

Micah then found himself following Plo through the vessel to those quarters, and noting that Plo greeted every person they passed, few as they were, by name. Micah opened himself further to the suggestions of the Force, to mark these people by armor, haircuts, and their presence. He would not fail to be as courteous and respectful as his bondmate was, especially when these people were claimed as children by the Kel Dor.

Plo felt the edge of Micah's thoughts, vibrant and real where for so long there had been only silence, and he pressed his dental plates together to steady himself. Comet would see to readying quarters for his beloved one, and until there was a need to separate, he and Micah could speak. Possibly attempt to determine what had happened... but the concerns of the present were a bit more crucial than the bafflingly impossible gift the Force had given them. 

His husband's life and presence were restored to him. He stepped into his outer chamber, and indicated the cabinet of masks. "I will remain out here for the moment, but there are masks there. Made for the Fleet, more than my sons -- they prefer their own _buy'ce_ , mostly -- but you should find something suitable easily." 

"We need to get you into your own air swiftly, my own heart," Micah said warmly, going to inspect the masks and find the one most suitable to his face. Nor did he try more than two; his eyes were able to narrow it down quickly, and the second one had the best, most secure fit.

Then, he was ready for true privacy with Plo, able to survive in the unique atmosphere his bondmate needed.

"Pfft, I am not so fragile as that," Plo told him, mild and amused, as Micah set about masking himself, shaking his head. "But you're going to be insistent, aren't you?" 

He did not object, truly, as even his sons would pause outside if he was in his own air so soon after a battle... which meant he could easily return to holding Micah to him. 

"I saw your exertions down there, and I am certain that was but the end of a more stressful campaign," Micah fussed at him. "Now, let us go inside." He stepped toward the airlock assembly, his hand brushing Plo's lightly for brief contact. Fortunately, the lock was made to accommodate two people at once, and they were able to get inside Plo's inner room with a minimum of separation. 

Plo made an affectionate noise even as he shook his head again. "It was not so bad as some," he told his mate calmly, even as he reached up to unfasten his mask and goggles. He took a slow breath of his own air, blinking his eyes in relief as the proper gases touched them. It did feel better, but he hadn't been pushed that hard, either. 

He tucked mask and goggles away, then moved straight to his (rather oversized, without the knowledge that often at least two of his Wolfpack shared it with him) berth, sitting down on the edge of it to reach up for Micah. He did not have the spare strength of will to pretend not to need him so badly, not in the privacy of his own quarters and atmosphere. 

Micah came closer, but stopped to get his boots and his belt off before joining him; he had no mind to need to move once he sat (and hopefully laid) down on the berth. "Shed some of that nonsense, Plo, and be comfortable please."

"You wear as much of this 'nonsense' as I do," Plo pointed out, but he was shedding boots and belts and robes even as he did. Micah seemed to be of the same opinion he was, and so he only moved a couple of pillows to support his back before he stretched out full-length and reached for Micah again. 

A few moments later, he had his dearest friend in his arms, tucked against his body. 

There was a sense of warmth and contentment that pressed from Micah to Plo, as the human settled in a position that had been so common to them once upon a time.

"You feel so ravaged, my own heart," Micah said once they had settled.

Plo sighed heavily, holding Micah in as close as he could. "...it has been a bad several years, my Micah. Even before the war began things were difficult, and now..." 

He swallowed against the pain of all of the deaths on the sands, of the deaths of his sons and his fellow Jedi alike, the slow bleeding out that just kept draining away their best and brightest. And even when they survived, everything they had to accept, to do, was sapping something vital from the Order itself. "Now is worse."

Micah rested with a hand low on Plo's ribs, considering the emotional thrust of Plo's presence. "Let us open and heal the bond, my heart, so you do not have to say it." They needed it, to have that complete honesty and knowing between them. "It will go more quickly, and give me more of your impressions than a dry recitation of facts."

Plo nodded, but there was one thing he had to warn Micah of, before they started that process. "I agree, and... yes, we will. First, though. Micah, I lost Qui the year after we lost you. And Ky's never come home." 

That hit Micah on levels that were personal, ones held close to his chest. He had meant to give his life to save Plo and Qui and the rest of their party. To learn Qui-Gon had been lost so soon after struck his sense of futility. 

Ky Narec was almost worse. Micah had held hope for their wayward brother to finally return to them. Not knowing had equaled being able to pretend all was well.

"You have been alone, then, and that, my dearest love, is not good."

Micah's grief ached, and Plo was glad that he had warned him first. It would have been worse, seeing it in his memories without the warning. He cuddled a little closer, resting his head on Micah a little more. "Not completely alone; I do have our padawans, my foundlings, and my new sons. But... oh, it has been hard, Micah. 

"Here. Let us see to the bond, my heart. So that you can see how we've gotten here... and so that things are right again." 

Micah drew in a deep breath through the rebreather, then pulled the mask free long enough to press a small kiss to his bondmate's skin. When he replaced the mask, it was to look into Plo's silver and black eyes, eyes that held the galaxy in their depths it seemed.

~Let us begin.~

`~`~`~`~`

Micah slipped free of the airlock and removed the mask to find one of the men in the outer room, without helmet. He thought it was the Commander, but could not be sure. Micah was still assimilating all the differences in the men from Plo's memory, but he was pretty certain the scar and missing eye meant 'Wolffe'. That he had abused his place in Plo's life, heart, and mind to make the Kel Dor sleep went without saying; Plo would probably fuss but admit he half-expected it. They had always, since being introduced in the creche, taken care of one another. Perhaps it had been because Plo had come so young to the Temple, a telepathic being accustomed to such unity, but the small group of five had formed a tighter network than any of the others in the youngling clans around that same point.

"He's sleeping," Micah said. "I'm Micah Giiett, Master in the Jedi Order," he added. 

Wolffe narrowed his eye, watching the stranger -- Master Giiett, apparently -- warily. He approved of his General resting, as he never _did_ get enough rest, but... he was very unsure of having him resting when there was a complete stranger there. 

Not a stranger to his _buir_ , obviously, not from the desperate embrace or the almost savage snarl of 'mine' in Mando'a that had accompanied them leaving the place the stranger had fallen out of midair from, but a stranger to _him_. "Commander Wolffe, 104th and 127th, GAR." 

"It is a deep honor to meet you, properly. Plo's impressions of you carry very strong pride and affection." Micah gave a disarming smile, observing as Wolffe moved and spoke to put more pieces to the snarling, angry impressions that meshed hard against Plo's concepts of a hurt, struggling boy. "Comet was going to be providing for me to use a state room. I don't want to impose, but I should take advantage of his rest to clean up."

Wolffe felt himself tuck his jaw slightly at the secondhand praise from his _buir_ , before he refocused on Master Giiett (Should be General, but Comet had warned him) again. "He _hasn't_ mentioned you. 

"But yes. The quarters next door are ready for you. A couple of the regular Fleet personnel are close to your size. Boost borrowed clean things from them so those," he eyed the decidedly not-clean Jedi robes for a moment, "can be laundered." 

Micah was unphased by not being spoken of. Plo and privacy could get odd, and memories were often stored away like a treasure to be hoarded, a subtle rebellion against the restrictions of the Order which demanded that all emotions be let go.

"I am very grateful. Coming from one fight to another did not help me… and the clothing was not as mended as I," Micah said with a smile for the man. "I think he should sleep at least another hour, Commander Wolffe. I believe I should use that time to clean up and meditate, as the Force has such an odd feeling to me currently."

"Yes, sir," Wolffe agreed, still focused on him. His General claimed him, so he was _aliit_ , but he didn't know him, and that was a profoundly unsettling feeling. Also, he hadn't seen his General settle to rest himself, so that was another unsettling thing. "I'll be here when you get back. If you need anything, Comet's with you." 

Micah gave him a short bow and left the outer chamber, well-aware that the commander was uneasy about him and over Plo. However, that would have to be worked out in due time, because after all Micah had gleaned from his bondmate, there was no way the Council was prying him away from the Kel Dor for more than short missions.

Plo Koon was far too damaged by the losses, as far as Micah was concerned.

He greeted Comet almost absently, then looked at the man standing there outside the door. "No, young man. If I am to have the honor of one of you as an escort, you'll come in and be comfortable. You are named as sons to my dear friend. Come in, off your feet, get a drink or other refreshment."

Comet eyed the Jedi for a moment, but then nodded -- it might not quite be proper protocols, but it also wasn't done to tell a Jedi that you weren't going to listen to them, either -- and followed him inside the stateroom. He got a bottle of water and found a seat, shifted the pouches on his belts so that they wouldn't be biting into him, checked that nothing would impede his draw if necessary, and settled down. 

"If you're needed, just go, Comet. I plan to shower and then meditate. I prefer to stay that way until Plo has need of me," Micah told him. "There is much to contemplate, if I am to be certain no harm can come to my friend, or any of you, for what the Force has done with me."

"Understood, sir," Comet replied, though he knew that short of a breach by commando droids, he had one responsibility, and it was this Jedi. 

`~`~`~`~`

Plo stepped into his outer chamber, properly protected from the poisonous air, and found Wolffe sitting up from a nap against the wall.

"You could have come inside," Plo reminded.

"Other general said you were sleeping," Wolffe rebutted that… and a little too much of his unease with everything bled through the words. 

"Wolffe." Plo came and crouched in front of his Commander, his son of the heart. "Micah's presence is a shock and a twisting of the Force unlike anything outside of legends. Yet his presence is also a very welcome thing. He is my oldest, dearest friend, literally one of my first conscious memories of life in the Temple."

Wolffe frowned, reaching out to touch his _buir_ 's hand lightly, watching the tusks and the way he held himself, before he nodded slightly. "Really _aliit_ , then. Like a batchmate. You've never... where has he been all this time, then, and how did he just... appear, like that? 

"He looked like he should have been injured, from the robes."

Those last words made Plo actually sit on the decking, as he remembered that long gone day in all of its pain. "He should be dead, Wolffe. I have no explanations yet. But I was there when he took those injuries. Our enemies had struck him from behind. He knew they were mortal blows, and chose to buy our escape with his life.

"I was there with our other friend, Master Jinn, as well as Kenobi, who was still a padawan at the time. Micah forced me to accept that he would not survive, but that he could make certain we did." Plo pressed his hand into that light touch. "I felt the bond, despite that he had been trying to untangle it before he could die, snap violently.

"Speaking of him, of my lost ones, is never easy for me, Wolffe. The Order espouses a philosophy of letting go of one's past and not holding emotional attachments in high regard. My people believe in remembrance and kin ties, much as your own. This is a conflict for me, between my two commitments as a Force user."

Wolffe moved, then, pressing himself along his _buir_ 's side, needing to be closer to him at the sound and sight of that grief. He slid his one arm behind his back, holding on, and listened. The idea of General Kenobi as a Commander was an odd one, but he nodded, and then he held on a little closer at the confirmation that his General's bond to the other man had been broken. That his General truly believed his batchmate, bondmate, had been dead. He had investigated the Kel Dor after his General was assigned to them, and done more research after the _Malevolence_. He knew a little more than most brothers, because of that, about how the Force affected his _buir_ 's race, affected him, and a snapped bond was a hard thing. 

He growled quietly at the mention of the Order's tenets -- all of the ones they claimed as _jetii_ bound themselves to their men: his own _buir_ , Kenobi, Skywalker, Secura, Swan, Di, Koth, Mundi, and others, mostly younger Knight-Generals, and did better for his brothers for it. The ones that didn't... most of them might be decent enough, but he hated trusting brothers to them -- and rested his head against his General's shoulder. 

"Would be hard," he agreed quietly, keeping his opinion on which was preferable to himself. 

"When Qui-Gon, Master Jinn, was killed the following year, it left me as the last of my original batch, as you would say. I was never close to Vokara Che, as she was in a different clan, and she has been… quite the Jedi." Plo settled his arm around Wolffe's shoulders. "I gave myself over to Lissarkh's care, to keeping an eye on little 'Soka, and mentoring various other younger ones to fill the holes.

"But I would sometimes stumble over that hole in my mind, and it would make the days too long," Plo told him. He then sighed softly through the mask, and squeezed with care, letting Wolffe feel the affection he had for them. "For all I wish this war had never come to be, it brought you and your brothers to my care, which helped further."

Wolffe rubbed his jaw hard along his _buir _'s shoulder, over the robes, and held on. His _buir_ was almost never talkative like this -- which he understood a little better now -- and he was not about to do anything to jeopardize that, but keeping too quiet would do so just as much. "...hurts, losing your batch," he murmured softly, gentle as he knew how to be. "But... at least you had the younglings? And," he paused for a moment, swallowing against not knowing what to say, "we're glad we have you, _buir_." __

__Plo hugged his Commander in tighter against his side. "My life is more complete than ever, to have all of you as my sons." He then made a small noise of consideration. "Speaking of younglings… I must get in touch with Bultar. She was Micah's first."_ _

__"General Swan," Wolffe said, placing the first name after a second, and he nodded, held snug against his General and utterly content with that. "Mmm. Ours too, sir."_ _

__He considered the revelations, and nodded to himself. "Batchmate and bondmate. _Aliit_. All right, sir. We'll take care of him. Comet likes his hair." _ _

__Plo chuckled. "Comet would. And Micah will be pleased if it starts a new trend." He leaned his head down against Wolffe's a long moment before clambering to his feet. "You really ought to get a proper sleep, my son. It was a difficult campaign."_ _

__Wolffe pushed up to his feet along with him, and studied his General for a moment before he nodded, willing to admit that the short nap he'd gotten wasn't really enough. His brothers would be fine with the General awake, and he was still tired. "Might," he said, about the hair, "though more likely the eyebrows. Gree and Tris both have the partially-shaved thing, but the brows are new."_ _

__That got another chuckle before Plo waved him on, moving to go begin the arduous process of convincing other Jedi that he had not lost his mind, that Micah Giiett actually lived. "I will see you later, _ad_."_ _

__As he stepped into the corridor, Micah was emerging as well, making Plo's tusks twitch. "Listening for me, are you?"_ _

__"I am feeling cooped up, but did not want to wander without you to introduce me and make certain I understand where the boundaries are," Micah said, looking much more respectable in the borrowed clothing._ _

__"Well, here I am," Plo said, amused and affectionate at his dearest friend. "And that was likely wise of you. None of my _ad'e_ would stop you, not with a lightsaber at your belt and Comet beside you, but the Fleet... might be more vexing. So, I will show you my ship, our home." _ _

__"Ahh, yes, a single lightsaber." Micah sighed dramatically. "I don't suppose you have any spare components and crystals?"_ _

__"General, sir, do you have a habit of finding dual wielders?" Comet asked on hearing that importuning. "Commander Vod'ika has a yellow one too, come to think of it."_ _

__Plo paused for a moment, then chuckled at Comet's question. "So she does, indeed. I had not noticed a particular habit of it, but you may have a point, Comet. I think I have a spare crystal, and repair components, but I don't believe I have everything to put a new one together for you. Once we've let the Council know, however, I'm sure whoever is actually on Coruscant will send us your other."_ _

__"Oh that would be most useful." Micah smiled. "And you mean the one Plo calls Little 'Soka, Comet? She uses a yellow saber? Should I offer to teach her the lessons of a Sentinel, Plo?"_ _

__"I do mean her, the Commander from the 501st," Comet said. "She's a good _jetii_ , sir."_ _

__Plo smiled at the praise from Comet for his little 'Soka, and then he hummed thoughtfully. "So long as you are most cautious about how you make the offer, she would take wonderfully to the lessons. Young Skywalker is entirely a Guardian... which makes it all the more amusing that her other 'saber is green."_ _

__Micah had to laugh at that. "Then, by the time padawan misadventures have misplaced her lightsabers a final time, it is anyone's guess what path she may choose!"_ _

__Comet had to smile too. Working so closely with a _jetii_ and often being on escort duty for him meant Comet had found a lot of time to read and ask questions. The different paths of the Order were likely going to get a new one, he thought, given the blending of Guardian and Sentinel that most of the good generals had to be._ _

__"Indeed," Plo agreed, as they neared the turbolift, "it is. Whatever path she chooses, she will excel at it, I am sure of that."_ _

__There was an interesting flavor to Comet's mind, but Plo was careful of his sons' privacy, and did not question. "What would you like to see first, my own?"_ _

__"The Council, by comm, so we can be done with the official Jedi business." Micah then dipped his head. "After, if you could contact Bultar, so I may try and make amends with her, I would appreciate it, Plo. I know she had to have been furious with me for leaving her behind, that last mission."_ _

__"She raged for a while," Plo admitted, and he chuckled softly. "All right. The Council comm suite first, then. And I had already determined that we needed to contact our padawan soon after."_ _

__"Because you are wise and have a kind heart, my dearest friend." Micah settled in for the lift, and actually allowed Plo to get everything set up without interjecting too many comments of the 'but Kit is still a young one' followed by Plo arguing that Kit was the same age as Mace and Adi._ _

__That had gotten a sulky comment about Kit actually knowing how to be young, and Comet was hard-pressed not to smile broadly for the distinction. He then took up guard outside the comm suite, so the generals would have privacy._ _

__Finally, the holo of the council chamber was in place… with very few members physically present -- it was obvious when the hologram was of a hologram -- and Micah was waiting just outside the pickup._ _

__"Master Koon?" Mace questioned. "Is there a problem?"_ _

__"There is certainly an _event_ ," Plo replied, "and one I believed you must all see -- and preferably all at once, to avoid any of you thinking me mad." _ _

__"As if any of us would think such," Shaak, one of the hologrammed-holos, answered that, and Micah felt a deep warmth to see that she was still a staunch supporter of his old friend. But, Plo had set the stage, and he moved into the pickup range, drawing several startled gasps and raised eyebrows._ _

__"No, I do not know how. The Force is … smirking? At my attempts to meditate," he said, eyes sweeping the members. Was that really young Kenobi hiding behind all of that facial hair? "The last I knew before finding myself here-now was that I had created an explosion guaranteed to kill me and the pursuers that threatened the other Jedi with me at the time._ _

__"Yet I was whole and unfatigued enough to carry through their campaign, despite the evidence of my earlier wounds in my robes and tunics," Micah told them._ _

__"Certain, Master Koon, you are?" Yoda asked before anyone else could begin the interrogation._ _

__"Entirely," Plo Koon said firmly, looking at each of them through their holograms, reaching for the low-level bond he and Saesee maintained to emphasize it. "This is my Micah. Also, my Wolfpack observed him suddenly appearing from thin air. Well. From a swirl of the Force so overpowering that I spent several moments dealing with incredible synaesthesia. Not pleasant, that."_ _

__Ki-Adi Mundi looked downright dumbstruck, which was an odd appearance on the Cerean, his mustache and beard both somewhat limp._ _

__"No debate, for this, then," Yoda decreed, looking around at each holo. Most were stunned, like Ki-Adi, but some were optimistic at what the Force being actively complicit in events could mean._ _

__Unsurprisingly, though, both Kit and Shaak looked as if torn between a protective need and cautious joy._ _

__Obi-Wan's face was so completely blank that Yoda knew without a doubt that this had prodded at the young Master's lingering attachment and trauma issues. Perhaps, at last, Obi-Wan would consent to have the mental damage examined and treated, from losing his training bond so violently._ _

__"I have to concur," Mace agreed with Yoda. "Due notice will be forwarded to the rest of the Order, Masters, and I suggest, Master Giiett, you remain with Master Koon, until such time as you feel comfortable offering your services to either Master Tholme or Master Jepet."_ _

__"I have no intention of leaving from here; the young men and Plo will be able to best help me adapt to this time and conflict so I may use my skills wisely," Micah agreed._ _

__Plo flickered thanks at Mace, though he was unsure the other man's shields would let it through, and brushed relief at Yoda, grateful for the backing. He would have dealt with further questioning -- it would have been understandable, and he would not have blamed them -- but it was much easier to have them accept what he knew to be the truth._ _

__"Master," Ki-Adi said, thoughtful and a trifle uncertain, "you are -- "_ _

__"Absolutely pleased that you stepped into the need, and have held that seat so well," Micah said firmly, to disabuse any notions of putting him back on the Council. "I am alive, and will do all I can to bring my particular abilities to bear on these unfortunate events."_ _

__Kit couldn't help but smile a bit wider, a bit ruefully in honesty. His memories of Micah had mostly seen the older man on the Council, appointed there at a young age to represent the Sentinels of the Order when Micah had proven so adept at his tasks. Granted, no one much had argued with Master Tyvokka once he chose such a thing._ _

__"If that is all, Masters, may the Force be with us," Eeth Koth said. "I am certain we all have men and campaigns in need of our aid."_ _

__"So we do," Obi-Wan agreed quietly, his face still so blank, "but... it is very good to see you, Master Micah. Force be with us all."_ _

__"And you, little one," Micah said in a gentle voice, before nodding and Plo cutting transmission. "That went well. Poor little Obi… this has to be so hard for him given how attached to his own Master he was. And it would have made more sense for Qui to defy death."_ _

__Plo sighed heavily, wrapping his arm behind his Micah's back again. "It must be, indeed... but it would have been no matter how we told him. Perhaps it is best he have time to deal with it on his own, before we see him._ _

__"And as to that last... I cannot but be glad it was you instead, my heart. No matter the 'sense' of the matter."_ _

__Oddly, even as he spoke, he thought he felt something in the atmosphere around them, a lingering ripple of the Force?_ _

__Micah noted it as well, and reached out with his senses, all of them, to find the Force was abnormally thick in one spot. "I am not certain the Force is completely done with oddities," he said, but then he shook his head. "Bultar, my own heart? I want to beat the Council's communication."_ _

__"You feel it too?" Plo asked, even as he reset the comms to use just one place of the Council's multitude and contact Bultar's ship to get to her._ _

__"I do. And do not look forward to the taste of red if it drops someone else on us," Micah said dryly, moving out of sight of the pickup again until Plo could get their padawan in a private comm._ _

__Plo snorted, but then Bultar was on the comm in front of him, deceptively small for the size of her heart and her will, and he curved his tusks in a pleased smile at seeing her. "Dear one. Can you get yourself to privacy?"_ _

__"Of course, master," Bultar said, her features lighting up to see him. "I only just returned. You'll be pleased to know that, for once, my family proved useful, and the Temple will be receiving five experimental single-man fighters that incorporate some of your suggestions."_ _

__She was moving, getting herself to the ward room closest to her. Micah listened to that, smiling to himself. The few visits to Kuat they had made had left him with a better appreciation of their chosen family over the blood ties she held._ _

__"I am very pleased to hear it," Plo agreed with her, "and I hope that they did not give you too much difficulty in the process. How is your Commander?"_ _

__Bultar's face was very neutral, very controlled, and her voice betrayed nothing. "Commander Thrust is doing well. He managed our men well in my brief absence, as always."_ _

__Micah covered his mouth; that was so much the tone of his delightful padawan not admitting to something outside of the Code._ _

__"Of course he did," Plo replied, his tusks twitching a little. Did she truly think that he, of all of them, would have anything to say about whatever accord she had come to with her Commander? He, who called each of them his own _ad'e_? "He is quite capable." _ _

__"Yes, he is." She sealed the door as she entered the ward room, and flicked the comm to cast from the projector in the center of the table. "There, master. I am alone and private."_ _

__Micah's whole being buzzed with anticipation. He had held off for years, much like Tahl, on the concept of teaching a padawan directly, though he had aided with Jaunre, Plo's first padawan, as the Gand had presented several challenges for them all. Bultar had been such a delight to him, though, with her quick mind and skills so like his own._ _

__"Good," Plo said, soft, and for a moment just looked at her. He was so proud of her, of their padawan, his Knight. "The Force has... rather given us a gift, my dear padawan, and you needed to know of it ahead of the Council's general message. You might never have forgiven me, else."_ _

__"Master, there is little I could not forgive you," Bultar said in a warm voice. "But tell me, what has the Force done? How can it affect me?"_ _

__"Because, little Krayt, the gift seems to be me," Micah said, stepping into view of the pickup again. "Hello, my little one… not so little now."_ _

__The woman lost her words for a long moment, eyes swinging between the two men that had shaped her into the Knight she had become. Micah Giiett had chosen her young, and mentored her until she was of age to be his padawan, so he had been almost like a father. Plo, too, had filled a familial place, and she felt a surge of protective fury for his sake. Only that he seemed perfectly calm helped her quell that, and she drew in a deep breath._ _

__"This seems impossible, but… you're certain, Master Plo?"_ _

__Plo reached across the distance between them, touching her mind reassuringly, even as he spoke aloud. "Yes, dear one. I am quite sure that this is our own Micah._ _

__"Do you really think that if I were uncertain, any other would have had the first clue something had happened?"_ _

__He brushed his love and affection at her, reassuring and gentle._ _

__She laughed, brittle and high, but a laugh nonetheless. "No, you would not have allowed it to be heard or seen," she admitted. She then focused back on her first master. "Oh, Master, this is… amazing. I wish it were under less trying circumstances, but… you are back."_ _

__"I am, my Bultar. And I am so proud of you, and all you have continued to be." Micah held his hand up and out, to be mimicked by her so that each was touching the hologram they could see. "Until we meet in person, be safe in the Force."_ _

__" _You_ be safe," their padawan growled, even as her hand rested on the hologram, fingers in the energy, and she held on to her other Master's mind. "I have things to **say** to you, my Master!" _ _

__Plo chuckled, low and warm and rich, at that tone from their padawan, letting amusement and surety flow to her. "I was sure you would," he told her._ _

__Micah shook his head. "I will hear them gladly… and dodge the blows that come with them, little Krayt." He smiled broadly at her, then let go of the energy. "May we meet soon, little one."_ _

__"Yes, masters. Soon." She inclined her head to both and reluctantly cut the connection so she could actually focus and work._ _

__"That went... as well as I could have hoped," Plo said with no small relief. "It is rather satisfying, to be so trusted."_ _

__"Plo, for all that we were discreet, not a soul of age and close proximity missed that you and I were actually bonded." Micah moved to take up space against the man he could not remember being without. "I love you."_ _

__"And I you, my dearest love," Plo replied, wrapping back around him and soaking in the weight of the body against his. "I have missed you so terribly."_ _

__Micah held on, settling more into his skin, even as that presence in the Force pulsed and drew attention again, demanding he meditate to understand it better. He would… as soon as he had his fill of being cherished by his beloved._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__It took several days, but Wolffe and Micah did finally set a reasonable amount of boundaries to help each other continue to fulfill their places in Plo's life. This was aided by the fact that Micah spent long times in meditation and preferred to have solitary time regularly._ _

__Meeting Ahsoka proved a bit more a trial, as the small Togruta was fiercely protective of Plo and had no prior knowledge, much like Wolffe, but less tendency to restrain her thoughts and words just because of the man's rank._ _

__A comm call with Bultar, at least, managed to calm the huntress down, so that she was willing to not needle the potential threat to her Finder constantly. Anakin was vaguely amused by his padawan's antics, doing little to rein her in._ _

__But, then he saw Plo and Micah in the fight their units were cooperating for, and Anakin's amusement turned to a troubled contemplation. Plo noted it, and made a point to find the young man._ _

__"Skywalker?" he greeted when he found the man alone, working on one of the drop ships. "I sensed you were troubled earlier, perhaps by Master Giiett and I?"_ _

__Anakin turned enough to look at Master Plo, carefully freeing himself from the engine he was working on as he did, and shook his head._ _

__"I don't know that I'd say 'troubled', Master," he said carefully, though he was aware that that was, at best, half true. The two of them had not only been as completely in synch as he and Obi-Wan ever managed, but there had been something... if he didn't know better, he would have said he was feeling Cody and Rex over there, or Bly and Aayla, not -- not a pair of Masters. "Surprised, though, I'll definitely grant."_ _

__"Hmm." Plo inclined his head. "You had not yet come to us when we lost him, and Obi-Wan would not have had much reason to speak of him when you were growing up," he said as he considered things. "I wish for things between you and he to be friendly, Anakin, not just because you are Qui-Gon's legacy, but because he has skills that would be quite useful for Ahsoka to study._ _

__"So, if there is cause for unease, may I know what it is, so I may address it?"_ _

__Anakin blinked at him, cocking his head slightly, as he studied Master Plo's face -- well, much of it as he could see -- and tried to puzzle out why the big man was being quite so... focused. He hadn't... done anything, had he? It just was so strange, feeling them, when they resonated as a _pair_ more than any other Jedi he'd ever met. "It -- the two of you feel strange. I'll get used to it, Master, I'm sorry." _ _

__Plo shook his head minutely. "Do not apologize, young one, when the oddity lies in us. But then, you would not have ever met any other pairs, would you have? I think the few others I can recall have stayed far from the Temple, save Sha, who chose to bond outside of the Order to avoid that complication._ _

__"Hmm, perhaps I should have pointed you in her direction on the discretion factor. I hadn't thought of that."_ _

__"Other... pairs, Master?" Anakin asked, careful and startled all at once. And by 'Sha', he had to mean his niece, Sha Koon, but... what? That 'the discretion factor' comment played a jangled, discordant note along his spine, and tension coiled itself in his muscles, wary and edged, but he stayed where he was, and waited for the answer to the first question._ _

__Plo sighed ever so softly. "You studied under Master Mundi for a time, yes? You are aware he has a family, due to species needs? There are other exceptions, Skywalker, with varying degrees of openness on those."_ _

__Anakin nodded, still wary, his eyes flicking over Master Plo, trying to figure out where this was going. "Everyone knows about Master Mundi," he agreed, shifting his weight slightly. "...other exceptions, though?"_ _

__Master Plo _couldn't_ be saying what it sounded like he was -- and part of him was edging towards anger at being baited. Obi-Wan's fury at him over his Angel, before anything had ever even happened between them, wasn't so easily forgotten as that. _ _

__The Kel Dor settled down to the decking, watching Anakin. "I have been careful to not comment on the relationship you have, Skywalker, out of courtesy. Much as I would do for others that do not have species' needs for them. Because I find the policy of basing it on need wrong._ _

__"But, in seeing how you reacted to Micah and I, I feel that perhaps you needed more… reassurance than a willful blind eye can be?"_ _

__Anakin had gone completely still at Master Plo's first words, the 'careful not to comment' a viscerally terrifying opener, when he'd spent so long afraid of anyone in the Order knowing, realizing, responding like his Master had. He knew he was breathing shallowly, and he kept his eyes on Master Plo with an effort._ _

__That comment about finding 'basing it on need wrong', as though Master Plo didn't -- wouldn't --_ _

__"Anakin. I approve. You found a connection, something solid to hold you away from the depths this war wishes to push us all to. I cannot tackle the reform that is needed while we are at war, but the exceptions granted to those of us who need them should be the norm for all," Plo told him, trying to calm him down. "Please be at peace."_ _

__The panic building in him snapped as Master Plo said 'I approve', even though he didn't know if he _believed_ him, the tone was so steady, so calm, that it reassured him. He sucked in a breath that slammed against his ribs, his head clearing, and he studied Master Plo straight-on. When he'd dropped his jaw, he wasn't sure, he'd been trying to keep his head up, keep focused. _ _

__He lifted the fingers of his right hand, asking silently for a moment, as he tried to grapple with what Master Plo had said. He ran it through his mind again, and a third time, before he was really certain that he'd heard what he desperately wanted to believe he had. Once he was pretty sure that yes, he had, he rubbed his temples with his left hand -- oh, he'd had grease on his hands, now it was on his face, oh well -- trying to figure out what that even _meant_. _ _

__"I -- you want to -- _really_ , Master?"_ _

__"Yes. I had presumed you would assist in that goal," Plo said evenly. "I must make it safe for all of my sons, after all, to have their choices honored." He reached out with the Force to squeeze Anakin's shoulder. "Micah and I were always ignored because I am from a communal species. I knew of other pairs, though, who did not have that excuse._ _

__"They mostly achieved their wishes by remaining diligent in their duties, much as you have been doing, and we always, those who learned the truth and cared enough to do so, would just not say anything. That is the approach I had taken after observing the way you and the young Senator were connected."_ _

__Anakin pushed into that invisible grip, watching Master Plo, feeling like all of his desperation and relief and panic and joy were all showing on his face, like everything he felt was written over his head, but that entire idea, especially that Master Plo thought he could **help** , was incredible. _ _

__"I would. I mean. I will. I -- I didn't -- " He hadn't thought any of the Masters saw the detachment and loneliness and distance as anything but the way things _should_ be. Obi-Wan certainly, obviously, did. _ _

__"There are others who wish change, not just for themselves but all, Anakin." Plo sighed softly. "I have kept to myself on such affairs the last several years, because it… it hurt. To think of him not being at my side when the challenge came. Then the war came, and I have had little energy for debates beyond how to end it."_ _

__He'd never even suspected that. That there were others that chafed under it, that thought it was wrong, that there needed to be change, that there would ever be anything but hiding... He understood that last, though. Both of the last things. He nodded, a little shakily. "I -- if I lost her, I don't know what I'd do. But it'd hurt too much to see anyone else with what I'd lost."_ _

__He was fairly sure he **did** know what he would do, and he didn't want to think about it. Especially not now! _ _

__"I'm fairly certain that is one reason you were asked to help us with this mission; I had expected the 212th. But I am certain Obi-Wan is still adjusting to the idea that Micah lives, when Qui… doesn't. Micah and I both admit that it is not fair to all those who have lost pieces of themselves, yet it is what the Force decreed._ _

__"I merely wished to clear the air with you, young one, as I do count you as a true friend, and only after your reaction did I realize that there might need to be words spoken."_ _

__Anakin closed his eyes and leaned back against the hull, looking at the inside of his eyelids instead of the quiet concern on Master Plo's face. That 'I do count you as a true friend' was... odd, sort of, since Master Plo hadn't wanted him accepted -- but then again, he knew he would have had influence on his getting Ahsoka, too. So maybe it should have been obvious that that had changed, sometime when he wasn't looking. And he did like Master Plo. "It... I had no idea. That there was -- " he frowned, trying to find different words. "That anyone else saw it as a problem, instead of the way things Ought To Be."_ _

__"Ahh." Plo sighed very quietly. "I wish, Anakin Skywalker, you had been found younger, and grown up close to us, the group that your Finder belonged to. We never fully conformed, though the others of us were less open in our defiance than Qui-Gon._ _

__"Introducing a Kel Dor into the creche as young as I was apparently affected the way we interacted with others, and how we accepted what was taught to us. Because I had latched on to their minds, and we shared certain thinking filters, because of that," he said, simplifying the complexity of the neural web that had evolved with his friends. "We only ever knew good from being attached, so how could we accept the interpretation that called it bad?"_ _

__Anakin blinked at him, torn between wishing that he had too and wanting to snarl, because that would have meant he had even _less_ time with Mom than he'd gotten, and she'd been the best thing in his whole life until Padmé. "I... hadn't ever realized you were close to Master Qui-Gon, I don't think. Or, not how close, anyway." _ _

__He'd known the big, masked Master was angry with Master Qui-Gon, and that had made him worried, too._ _

__"There were five of us. Myself and Micah, Qui-Gon and Tahl, and Ky Narec. Ky left to go explore early in Obi-Wan's padawan days. We lost Tahl when your master was around sixteen. And Micah… the year before we met you." Plo did not want to dwell on the emptiness of that first web of connections for so long. "I was so furious with Qui-Gon's treatment of Obi-Wan, young one, that day in the Council," he said, addressing a faint impression of Anakin's misgivings. "And you were too young to go straight to padawan in my opinion, not that it had actually been asked."_ _

__Anakin filed that away, both the names of those Master Qui-Gon had been close to and what had happened to them, and _why_ Master Plo had been so upset. He hadn't considered that as a possibility, and... it did make sense. _ _

__"Oh. I -- that makes sense. I... can't _imagine_ doing anything like that to Ahsoka, not over someone I didn't even know. And in front of her?" He shuddered at the very idea. _ _

__"I don't think I would be able to refrain from yelling at you to not repeat history if you tried," Plo said dryly. "But then, I am a bit protective of Little 'Soka, given how close to not knowing her at all we came." He then moved across the decking to sit beside Anakin. "You are a good Knight. You are learning to be an excellent mentor to her. You have the love and respect of your men. All of these things prove that we, the Council, were wrong in following the guidance of our senior members._ _

__"I am sorry for that."_ _

__"...I'd need the yelling," Anakin said, falling on dark humor and letting his mouth run, "or you to check my brain for a worm or something." He'd always been so grateful for Master Qui-Gon's defense, and his determination to keep him... but he still didn't always deal well with the idea of his Master taking a new padawan -- and here he was a Knight with a padawan of his own! If Obi-Wan had ever... well. It wouldn't have been a complete surprise. He shouldn't have had to take him, not when he hadn't wanted him any more than the Council had._ _

__But it still would have hurt. And now that he had Ahsoka, the idea of **ever** doing something like that was enough to leave him nauseous and cold. _ _

__And he was focusing on that because the rest of what had just happened was so completely impossible. Masters didn't apologize. There was no reason for them to. He'd known that since he was old enough to know anything. He tried not to treat Ahsoka like that, but he still felt like just a kid, too._ _

__But Master Plo just _had_. What? _ _

__Plo moved so that the back of his hand was touching the young man's arm lightly. "You, my young friend, will not fail her, or your men, or your teacher, in such a way. I have faith in this. And, when this war allows, I would very much enjoy the privilege of arguing by your side for humans and others to be allowed the right to choose their attachments and depth of them more openly."_ _

__Anakin breathed, and leaned against that hand, and let the utterly baffling sensation of someone not-his-own having faith in him sink into him all the way to his bones. It... oh, it felt good. "Thank you, Master."_ _

__"You are most welcome." Plo inclined his head, tusks flexing. "I am available, any time you have need of me, young one. That is an offer I should have made years ago, instead of closing myself off in pursuit of caring for just the ones I had found." He stood to leave Anakin then, his mind more at ease._ _

__Anakin shook his head slightly, baffled by everything that had just happened, but... comforted, too. If Master Plo, a Master of the _Council_ , could say that he and Padmé were okay, that he supported them, maybe. Maybe it would really be all right, eventually. Before Master Plo could step away, he looked up at him. "Master? I -- what do -- how do you think Master Obi-Wan would react?" _ _

__Plo tipped his head to the side as he appraised Anakin. "I was under the impression he was aware, young one. He was your teacher, after all, and seems quite adept at preventing extra demands on your limited time on Coruscant."_ _

__Anakin blinked up at him, shocked, his understanding of the world taking another hit. He believed Master Plo's confusion was real, but... that didn't make any sense, not after the way Master Obi-Wan had reacted on Geonosis. He knew sometimes he wasn't all that good at hiding what he felt, but it just didn't match, didn't fit. "He... what, Master?"_ _

__"I've seen him head Mace off a few times, and he distracted Master Tiin from asking you about your maneuvers just last week… by the way, you have impressed Saesee as much as you do myself with your piloting._ _

__"But… perhaps you and your teacher should talk a bit. Or I can verify Obi-Wan is aware, if you prefer not to chance it. I feel certain he is."_ _

__Anakin smiled at the comment about his piloting, pleased at the praise, before unease clawed viciously back down his spine at the thought of risking reawakening that furious wrath. "I -- if you would, Master? It..."_ _

__He really shouldn't hide behind Master Plo, but it was better than testing _his_ Master himself. _ _

__"I shall. And if he has any issues, I will handle them, young one. For I am fairly certain I know many, many things about Obi-Wan that he might prefer to forget." Plo smiled behind the mask. "Force be with you, Anakin."_ _

__"And you, Master Plo," Anakin replied, and got back onto his own feet, fully intending to bury himself back in the guts of the ship until the galaxy started to make at least _some_ sense again. _ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__While Plo worked on weaving together the interpersonal dynamics of the various Jedi he knew, Micah applied himself to breaking open the secret of who the Master Sith was. Analyzing events dating all the way back to the death of Plo's master, Tyvokka, was giving him patterns of behavior, a set of data that kept turning up certain concerns and names._ _

__That he was aided by a ghost, in the form of Qui-Gon Jinn's spirit, was carefully hidden from all but Plo Koon at the moment, because Micah was aware it was far too unbelievable that two dead men could be doing this. Yet, a meeting with Yoda gave Micah insight on what the Force thought it was doing._ _

__Micah could be seen, touched, and understood in the Force that was _now_ , but was invisible to all attempts to see in the future. If that applied to the Sith, and they were fairly certain it did, given how quickly Dooku had fled when confronted by two of Qui-Gon's friends in battle, as if he'd had no idea Micah existed, then the Force had given them a counter against Sithly intelligence in matters._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Between the fact Qui-Gon's spirit could not enter the Chancellor's presence any more than he could go near Dooku, and Micah's careful piecing together of various events that kept connecting to the Chancellor's associates, going back a couple of decades, Palpatine's plans broke in the middle, and the Republic was alerted to the danger._ _

__What was later known as the Clone Crisis was prevented from being a complete tragedy because the signal for the chips had only made it as far as the Home Guard. Anakin Skywalker was credited with having prevented its spread, though details on his involvement were shady at best._ _

__No one wanted to admit that the Hero With No Fear had actually been a sleeper agent, against his will, as much as they had been, a fact turned up by Plo arranging for Anakin and Obi-Wan to actually communicate fully and openly with him present to mediate._ _

__Once Anakin's mind was cleared of all of Palpatine's suggestions, the former slave had made the intuitive leap concerning slave chips, leading to saving the clones._ _

__While the Senate was left to clean up Republic affairs, the Jedi and clones saw to attempting to end the war. Amazingly, that was going well, given that the Separatists no longer had firsthand information of where the Republic would be attacking._ _

__Through it all, as revelations happened, and events were derailed, Plo kept Micah as close as he could, afraid that the return was temporary, a loan from the Force. He knew it was selfish and possibly foolish, but the morning that an armistice was officially declared, three days after Dooku's body had been found on Serenno, Plo went straight from the comm suite to where Micah had been meditating._ _

__His heavy sigh of relief made Micah look up, then smile._ _

__"Worry for nothing, you do," the human said, imitating Yoda's speak on purpose, like all Temple raised younglings did at some point or other._ _

__"It is my worry to have, my dear friend," Plo said, coming to sit beside Micah. "We have an official armistice."_ _

__"Then, the hard work begins now. For we must put our own house in order," Micah said, leaning into Plo's solid chest, tucked under an arm._ _

__"Together, we can do it."_ _

__"Yes, my own heart; we can."_ _


End file.
